


Weasley Family Comfort

by ThatHCWriter



Series: Weasley Family Collections [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canonical Character Death, Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Mother-Son Relationship, Near Death Experiences, Recovery, Werewolf Bill Weasley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27381640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatHCWriter/pseuds/ThatHCWriter
Summary: No matter how much they grow, fight, or lose, sometimes the Weasley children just need their mother.Or, Molly shares a quiet moment with each of her children.Not necessary to read the rest of the series!
Relationships: Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Bill Weasley & Charlie Weasley & Fred Weasley & George Weasley & Ginny Weasley & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Molly Weasley & Weasley Family
Series: Weasley Family Collections [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1967764
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Weasley Family Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> I'm loving this series, so here's another installment! This one's pretty sweet (little sad because of the war, but mostly sweet,) and it was inspired by the asshole who pointed out that Molly strokes her kids' hair at multiple occasions, namely when George lost his ear and when Fred died.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Molly Weasley despised St. Mungos. At best, it was a place that she barely remembered being wheeled out of with a new baby or two in her arms, at worst, it was a place where she went with a heavy heart, fully prepared to say goodbye to someone she cared for deeply. 

Today was one of the latter times. All she remembered Harry saying was something about a snake, and that they needed to get to her husband, and soon. She was making her way back into the halls of that wretched place, heart in her throat. 

She noticed subtle change in the atmosphere. A healer was approaching her swiftly, like there was something urgent she needed to say to her. Like something was wrong. 

"Missus Weasley?" She almost winced. 

"Yes?" She tried to keep her voice professional, barely choking back sobs. 

"I won't keep you in the dark. Your husband is going to make it. That snake did injure him badly, but he fought hard, Mrs. Weasley. He's going to be okay." Molly could've collapsed in relief. She nodded, tears forming in her eyes. 

"Can I see him?" The healer nodded, gesturing to a nearby door. Molly went through it with reckless abandon, not waiting for the nurse to continue speaking. The sight that greeted her made her go green. Arthur didn't look like himself, his skin too bandaged and covered with dried blood. She sat next to him, hand resting on his cheek. Mercifully, that was enough to stir him. 

"Hey..." Arthur said groggily, staring drowsily at his wife. Molly beamed, kissing an unbandaged part of his cheek. She didn't even notice Bill walk into the room, leaning up against a wall and smiling with averted eyes. 

"How are you feeling?" 

"Better," He said softly, his hand finding hers, "Where are the kids, Molls?" Molly tried to steady her breathing. 

"In the lobby. Worried out of their minds. I just got here, headed back as soon as the healer allowed me. I can go tell them, if you like," Bill stated from the corner, slowly approaching his parents. Arthur smiled weakly, but tension filled Molly's body. 

"You alright Molly?" Arthur asked feebly, squeezing her hand tighter. Molly nodded, expression overrun with emotion. "Would you prefer to tell them?" Molly looked to him in shock. 

"And leave you here? Arthur you were just attacked." 

"I'll stay here mum," Bill said firmly, eyes downcast, "They're scared. They need you more than me right now." With that, a kiss and a smile, Molly left the room determined. Bill was right, they needed her. 

When she finally reached the waiting area, she was greeted by a scene a part of her didn't want to interrupt. Fred and George were sitting next to each other, George's head almost slumped on to Fred's shoulder in slumber. Ginny was almost fully curled into George's lap, and Ron was awkwardly leaning on her, snoring at a volume obscene for a hospital waiting room. Sirius and Harry were also there, sitting quietly across from the clump of redheads in silent support. Molly cautiously walked to her children, tapping Fred lightly on the shoulder. 

"Mum?" He asked with a strange level of clarity for his state. With that word, almost all of the kids stirred, some coming to their senses much faster than others. 

"He's awake. He's going to be alright." Molly didn't see the purpose in keeping the kids in suspense. She felt the collective tearful sigh of relief coming from the group as they all fell into their mother's arms. 

"Can we see him?" Ron asked, his face pressed into Molly's neck. She shushed the group gently. 

"I'll ask him if he's feeling up for it. He's still recovering, remember." She felt her kids nod against her chest, some of them beginning to cry. She comforted them all she could, whispering soft comforts and reassurances that _yes, dad was going to be okay_ for what felt like hours. 

Eventually, after the kids had all reunited with Arthur, they sat in his hospital room for the night. Molly was beginning to drift off, her hand intertwined in her husband's, when she heard Ginny sniffling softly from the other side of the room. She got up as silently as she could, kneeling before her youngest. 

"Everything alright, Ginny?" She solemnly shook her head. 

"We can't lose dad. We were so close... He could've..." Ginny trailed off, her whisper just quiet enough not to wake her brothers. Molly shushed her, pulling her close once again. She didn't make any attempts to resist. 

"Come with me, alright." Ginny nodded, following her mother up to the bed. Molly let her daughter take her seat next to his bed, rubbing her back soothingly all the while. 

When morning came, Arthur didn't ask why Ginny's head was resting on his shoulder. Frankly, he didn't mind at all. Instead, he simply began to stroke her hair, which in tandem with Molly's gentle reassurances, reminded Ginny that her parents weren't going anywhere. Not for a long time. 

\---

The night was relatively calm, the fear that had ravaged the Weasley family in the past few days momentarily fading to the background. Most of the family was home, at ease, and sleeping peacefully throughout the house. Even though just a few hours prior, they'd received a blow that they thought would end them. But by some miracle, Bill had made it out alive, untransformed, and that felt promising. Something about that evening felt like a momentary break from all of the suffering. For a moment, it seemed as if most of them had found some sort of peace. And then, there was Molly. 

She was far from sleep, sitting in silent vigil next to her eldest son. Bill was in a fitful sleep, eyes closed but hands gripping tightly to the bedsheet, a slight grimace of pain on his face. Molly stared helplessly at the semi-fresh scars on his face, running through any way she could help her boy and coming up nearly empty. She noticed his face scrunching ever so slightly tighter than it was before, his head rolling back into the pillow, back arching. Thinking quickly, she grabbed a rag from the dresser, dabbing at some of the dried blood on Bill's cheek, careful not to irritate the scars further. 

Her heart melted when he leaned into the rag. She continued her ministrations for a moment, thankful she was able to ease him, if even for a moment. 

"M..Mum?" Bill said groggily, eyes slowly sliding open. Molly smiled, pushing herself into his field of vision. He smiled softly, face relaxing as he rolled his head into the pillow.

"I'm here, dear. Are you feeling alright?" Bill sighed, sounding almost content. 

"Still hurts a bit. Reckon the murtlap's helped though." Molly smiled sweetly, brushing her fingers soothingly through her eldest son's hair. Bill seemed to relax even further at the gesture, his eyes fluttering shut. However, she didn't miss the lingering sense of pain in his face. "I'm okay though, Mum. It's getting better." His mother smiled softly, tutting to herself and reaching for salve to apply to the worst of the scars. Bill hummed, seemingly comforted. 

"You've never been a good liar, Bill. Tell me where the worst of it is." Bill laughed softly, pain still evident. 

"I should've known better," he sighed, turning away from her and lazily tracing just above one of the deepest of the scars, "Stings like hell." Molly nodded, gently dabbing salve onto the mark. Bill still looked despondent, as if he still had something to say. 

"Something on your mind, dear?" Bill swallowed, shaking his head. Molly sighed, resuming her ministrations in his hair. He wasn't telling her something, that much she knew, but now wasn't the time. He was comfortable, at least for the moment, and she'd never want to cause him more pain. He was finally sleeping somewhat restfully, and for the moment, that was all she could ask. 

\---

The Battle of the Seven Potters had left everyone shaken. Harry was rightfully upset about the death of his owl, Tonks, Lupin and Kingsley were all out of sorts about Mad-Eye, and their sudden and swift defeat had left nearly everyone involved feeling outnumbered, ill-prepared and out of their league. 

But, as per usual, Molly Weasley was a special kind of worried. Most of the Weasleys were, as one of their own lay sluggishly bleeding on the couch. Finally, though, most of them had retired to a room, sleeping if they could, and just taking a moment to themselves if they couldn't. She and Fred were still in the room with George, Arthur ducking in and out every few moments, telling Molly that he simply couldn't sleep in an empty bed. She smiled at her husband's remark, but her attention remained solely focused on her boy. 

George was hazy at best, slipping in and out of consciousness under Molly's hands. She was dabbing gently at the blood still pooling around his hair, noticing every subtle wince and drowsy groan George let out and shushing him each time it happened. Fred was next to them the whole time, eyes just as pained as his twins'. Somehow, that was the part of it that pained her most. It was as if both boys had been struck with that terrible spell, with Fred feeling every ounce of the pain that George was in. 

When George fell asleep yet again, Molly turned to Fred. "Freddie," she whispered, careful not to awaken the other twin. Fred stirred from his haze, blinking rapidly to wake himself up. "Get some rest, alright? He's going to be okay. You're no use to him without any sleep." Fred seemed almost offended at the assertion. 

"I'm not leaving him, mum. You know that." Molly sighed. 

"I do. Just go to the couch, dear. I'll wake you if he asks." Fred was clearly searching for some sort of rebuttal, but he was simply too exhausted, laying back on the chair across the room and falling asleep almost instantly. Molly smiled fondly, turning her attention back to George. 

He was slowly beginning to awaken again, wincing drowsily and attempting to orient himself. Molly quickly began to stroke his hair in an attempt to ground him, whispering soft comforts to him. His eyes quickly flitted to his mother's, a content smile slowly taking shape on his face. "Mum? Where's Fred?" She moved out of the way, revealing Fred's sleeping form awkwardly scrunched in the armchair. Tension slowly began to leave George's body. 

"Want me to get him?" 

"No," George said definitively, weakly shaking his head, "don't you see how comfortable he looks? Molly laughed softly, turning back to Fred's strangely twisted, yet peaceful looking form. 

"Is the pain too bad? Anything I can do?" Molly kept her voice calm and quiet, soothing George to the best of her ability. He lazily shook his head. 

"This helps." Molly smiled softly at the admission, stroking his hair once again. 

"Rest, George," She whispered, "We'll be here." That seemed to soothe George enough for the moment, slowly falling asleep. For a moment, he was at peace. 

\---

It was the longest moment of Molly Weasley's life. There was finally peace in the violence, a moment of calm in the battle, and yet, the world had stopped. Her son was laying on the floor, bloodied and broken, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face. With every new family member that found out, it felt like a part of her died with Fred. 

Arthur was thankfully much more attuned to their surroundings, taking a moment with each of their children while Molly was fixated on Fred. She was kneeling next to his head, brushing the sweat and blood-soaked hair off of her son's forehead. 

She knew he couldn't feel it, she knew the actions were partially in vain, but her hand still kept stroking gently. It was an instinct, a reflex that not even death could stop. When her children began to surround her, pain flooding their voices, Molly extended one of her hands to whoever she could reach, sometimes not even realizing she was doing it. 

And yet, her eyes did not leave Fred's still form. It didn't even feel like Fred. He was too still, too stoic. All of the mischief, and ruckus, and hassle the boy had caused, no, thrived off of was absent from his face, the usual light horribly and suddenly snuffed out. The whole scene felt horribly unnatural, like she'd stepped into some sort of enhanced boggart that had bewitched her entire family. 

She couldn't help but think of her own brothers, and the way she felt when she heard the news. Those horrible, agonized sounds coming from her children were ones she herself had let out all those years ago, when everything was so different, and yet exactly the same. Maybe they were somehow with her boy, the one she'd named in part after them. Maybe they'd be there to comfort him if she couldn't. 

_'I promise, Molls, he'll be fine with us.' Fabian had said to her one of the last times they'd spoken, a very small Charlie standing between her brothers. She was hesitant to let the twins watch one of her children, but she saw the way that her son smiled at the men so reverently, his happiness unmistakable. In that moment, she knew they'd be okay. There was no reason to worry. He wasn't leaving forever, just going with his uncles._

Now, sitting in the great hall among the people who mattered most to her in this world, that's what she found herself thinking. Fred was lost to them. There were so many never agains that it made her head spin with dread and grief and hurt for her kids, but she managed to contain her despair, even for just a while, with one simple thought. 

He's not gone forever. Just going with his uncles. 

\---

There was a surprise visitor at the Burrow. Molly felt horribly unprepared, as she hadn't kept the house to its usual standard after the war... after Fred... but yet, there was a visitor. One she'd been waiting for for what felt like forever. 

He rode in on a dragon, not paying any mind to subtlety, and hopped off quickly. She barely recognized him at first, what with his newly-grown beard and wildly unkempt hair and new tattoos snaking up his arms, but something in her very soul knew immediately. Her dreams had finally come true. 

Charlie had come home. 

She ran to him without abandon, opening her arms to the boy immediately. He fell into her embrace, relief washing over him. "Charlie," she said softly, tucking his head into her neck and gently brushing her hand through his messy ponytail. He gave a watery laugh. 

"Hey mum." That was almost enough to get tears flowing out of Molly's eyes, her son's voice, a voice she'd been missing for far too long, momentarily bandaging her aching heart. Charlie pulled away, wiping his eyes with shaking hands, "I... I don't even know what to say..." Charlie looked down, shaking his head. "I missed you. I missed home. When I heard.." Charlie's voice broke as he covered his mouth with a fist, "When I heard about him, I felt horrible. I made arrangements as fast as I could... I'm sorry. I should've been here, I should've..." 

"None of that, Charlie," Molly cooed, drawing him back to her. 

"He's my baby brother! I could've protected him Mum. I could've at least been there for everyone... For George. I could've done better." 

"We've all been thinking that way. There's nothing more any of us could've done," Molly's tone was wavering heavily, but she still held strong to her son. Charlie nodded, trying to pull himself together. 

"I'm sorry. Quite the way to say I'm back," Charlie laughed half-heartedly. Molly clapped a hand firmly on her son's shoulder, leading him back into the house. Charlie gave the dragon a signal, before letting his mother lead him into the house. She leaned over, cupping his cheek and smiling deeply as she brushed a thumb over his cheek.

"Oh my boy," she said, regarding the boy that had changed both so much and not at all since the last time she'd seen him, "Welcome home." 

\---

Just a day after Charlie had made his triumphant return, there was yet another visitor at the Burrow. This one was much less grandiose, almost as if he didn't want to be noticed. He simply apparated just outside of the yard, shoulders scrunched and gaze low. Of course, Molly knew immediately who it was, and moved to the front of the house to greet him. Percy was thin, too thin, with a sunken, pale face that would've looked so horribly out of place on any child of hers. He was avoiding his mother's gaze as well, shame written plainly across his face. 

"Mum, I..." He shook his head, massaging the bridge of his nose. Molly kept her tone down, smiling warmly. She rested her hand on his shoulder, rubbing her thumb over his collarbone gently. Percy almost winced.

"I'm glad to have you back, Percy." Percy sighed and shook his head. 

"Why?" Molly stared at him, thoroughly confused. "All I've done is bring you all misery. I said horrible, horrible things... and you're just going to welcome me home? After all of that? After.. After Fred?" Molly bit her lip, actively fighting back tears. 

"Of course I am." Percy looked at her like he'd never seen her before, like her words were in a language he didn't understand. He stared at the ground intently. He couldn't meet her eyes, if he did, he'd see that she was lying. Because there was no way this is real, after what he did to his family, they wouldn't just welcome him back, especially not with open arms. He tried to contain his hesitation, managing a smile while his mother scanned him. 

Alas, Molly Weasley was a very perceptive woman. There was no use lying to his mother, especially not about this. She gently hooked her arm around Percy, massaging the back of his neck. Percy leaned into the soothing touch the best he could, a part of him still not fully convinced he deserved it. 

"Percy dear, we love you. Nothing's going to change that. You always have a home here, you know that, right?" He hesitated for a moment before finally nodding. Molly didn't move her gaze from him, a stern but loving smile that Percy had known all his life crossing her face. 

"I'm sorry," Percy said darkly, tears forming in his eyes. Without hesitation, his mother embraced him. 

"Me too." 

\---

That Saturday was to be the best day of Ron Weasley's life. He and Hermione had everything planned down to the smallest detail, sparing no expense. Hermione was like that, Ron always joked, and he just went with the flow. He was excited, he really was, but tonight, it just felt like too much. 

Molly got the patronus at an ungodly hour, and it scared her half to death. Having children that are dragon tamers and aurors made patronus messages go from a usually positive reminder or notification to an omen darker than the grim itself. When the wisp took the form of a Jack Russel terrier, her worries eased at least a bit. At least Ron was well enough to send his own patronus, she figured. Merlin, then it must not be about him. Was it Harry? Or Charlie? Or something else entirely? 

"Hey mum. I'm really sorry to be sending you this this late, but... I just want to talk to you. Can I..?" Molly didn't hesitate. 

"Of course dear. Apparate here whenever you like. Should I wake your father?" 

"No need. I won't be long." Molly scurried quietly to the front of the Burrow, meeting her son. He looked fine, just a little on edge, which soothed Molly greatly. 

"Are you alright Ron?" 

"It's stupid." 

"Well if you're sending me a patronus before sunrise, it better not be." Ron laughed dryly, resting a hand on the back of his neck. 

"I'm just anxious. About Saturday," Ron whispered, almost ashamed. Molly smiled understandingly. 

"Cold feet?" Ron feigned shock. 

"Of course not! Never thought I'd be so lucky." Molly smiled pridefully, mirroring the shine in Ron's eyes. "I just want it to be perfect for her you know? She's just got so much planned." Molly barely suppressed a laugh. 

"You do know she's probably thinking the same thing." Ron blinked at his mother in mild confusion. "That's part of why she planned it so much, I think. She wants it to be as perfect for you as you want it to be for her." Molly gently cupped the back of Ron's neck, stroking his hair casually. "Why would she bother planning so much if she didn't want it to be perfect for the both of you?" Ron smiled, nodding profusely. 

"Yeah. Yeah I suppose." Ron gained confidence with every word. Molly squeezed his neck gently, commanding his attention for another moment. 

"Never forget, you're worthy of each other. You two are wonderful, and Saturday is going to reflect that no matter if everything goes off without a hitch." Ron nodded, smiling tiredly. 

"Thanks mum," Ron said, slowly and reluctantly separating from her embrace, "I love you." 

"I love you too, my boy," She said as he turned to apparate away, "I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> There you go! What did you think? Please consider leaving a comment or kudo, and have a wonderful day!


End file.
